


Tea for Three

by bao (sunwukong), Collectible, eggfish, penkipenguin



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Universe, Dream Sequence, Illustrated, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 04:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19804909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwukong/pseuds/bao, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Collectible/pseuds/Collectible, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggfish/pseuds/eggfish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/penkipenguin/pseuds/penkipenguin
Summary: They say you should write from experience, but firsthand experience was never something Keito expected to have for an Alice in Wonderland-themed script. He didn't expect all the other hands, either...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative illustrated fic created by Tai (Collectible), Bao, Penki, Luu (@yamanagimitsus on twitter) and Gold (eggfish) for the Enstars Shipping Olympics! Chapters and artworks will be credited at the end of each chapter, but we all pitched in to edit the different sections together. We hope you enjoy!
> 
> [ Team Eichi/Keito/Wataru's ESO collection is now public! ](https://esomain.dreamwidth.org/9251.html#cutid1)

Keito glared at the opposite window of the tea shop, the exact midpoint between glaring at Eichi for suggesting this outing, or glaring at Wataru for agreeing that it sounded like an _Amazing_ way to spend an afternoon. 

Outside, the people on the streets were going about their lives in a carefree way that he envied, unburdened of insistent childhood friends or their exasperating pet weirdos. Inside, the air-conditioned shop provided a reprieve from the sweltering late summer but did little to soothe his inevitable impending headache.

Keito couldn’t tell who was third-wheeling. Maybe it was him, every time Eichi and Wataru exchanged prolonged stares across the table like there couldn’t possibly be anything more amusing and wonderful and absolutely romantic than waiting an improbably long time for some tea to arrive despite the emptiness of the shop. Maybe it was Wataru, glancing between Keito and Eichi with inexplicable delight every time they defaulted to trading literary insults and (less admirably) stomping on each other’s feet under the table. Maybe it was Eichi, who, every time Wataru attempted to sneak another utensil down the back of Keito’s uniform shirt with his disgusting prehensile hair, giggled behind his hand in a way where Keito could clearly hear an echo of his thoughts: “The two of you are so dear to me; I simply wish for my left and right hands to get along.”

“I simply wish for my left and right hands to get along,” was exactly what Eichi had said the week earlier, breezing into the student council room with his shirt collar still as crisp as it had been when he’d stepped out of his car in the morning, a testament to how the August heat stood no chance against his flights of fancy. (Miles apart from Wataru’s earlier entrance, in which he’d managed to suspend himself upside-down on the opposite side of the window, waving both hands with streamers and confetti falling from his pockets, until Keito was forced to let him in.) It was rare for Eichi to find Keito and Wataru together; certainly, they had their differences—more differences than similarities. In some moods, he’d say they seemed like exact mirror images, designed perfectly to stand on opposite sides of him. (In other moods, he’d find some wry amusement in how casually he could tie other people’s lives to his own.) 

Regardless, if Keito could just loosen up a little, Eichi was convinced Wataru’s endless charms wouldn’t be wasted on him. And if not, well, at least Keito’s distress at being forced to spend time in proximity to Wataru once in a while would keep him entertained for life.

Along with all the stray confetti, Wataru had brought some outlandish and aggravating suggestion that Keito was in the middle of refusing.

“Have some more consideration for people’s time. As far as I’m concerned, the student council,” Keito had pointedly looked at Eichi, “has been far too forgiving of your club’s foolishness already; besides that, you should consider your juniors, who have likely already filled their summer with productive activities that leave no room for your ridiculous whims. Spare them your nonsense. Look after them more kindly, too.”

Wataru had made a show out of considering that last comment. “I may not fully agree with Eichi’s assessment of your lack of charm, but then again—perhaps being able to give kind praise to your underclassmen in the usual manner is a privilege of the ordinary.”

Before Keito could retort, Eichi had cut in, his eyes bright with childlike mischief. “I don’t know what you two are chatting about, but just from how lively you sound, I’m sure it’s an opportunity I wouldn’t want to pass up. Why don’t we all sit down over some tea and discuss it together?”

So they had ended up at a tea shop days later in an attempt to convince Keito to write an original script for the Theater Club, and if Wataru’s eyes had widened at the prices listed on the menu, Eichi had just as quickly declared that it was his treat.

“I couldn’t quite decide between Hokuto-kun as Alice or Tomoya-kun as Alice; the other castings are much less consequential, as I can fill every other role onstage.” Wataru, ever the performer, was thus far succeeding in quashing his urge to start tying the linen napkins together into an endless chain of uncomfortably high quality table settings out of the sheer sense of feeling out of place in Eichi’s tier of casually-frequented establishments. It wasn’t like they often spent time together outside of school or unit activities, and Wataru wouldn’t object to continuing to do so—but next time he would have to take advantage of Eichi’s enthusiasm for exploring the junk food of the proletariat and suggest going to Burger King.

“You keep going on as if I’ve agreed to this,” Keito said, rubbing his temples in the delightful way that meant he was _this_ close to giving in, as he generally did when Eichi was involved, and as he did much more often than he’d admit when Wataru joined the equation. In the good half-hour that they’d sat waiting for their tea in less-tense-than-it-could-have-been and less-caffeinated-than-it-should-have-been company, they’d done a nearly complete job of wearing him down.

Wataru grinned ear-to-ear, preparing his next exclamation to seal the deal—he’d discovered that the acoustics in the empty shop were excellent—but was interrupted by the wait staff finally arriving, a lone teapot balanced on his tray. Wataru had avoided having to decide on his own order by declaring his intention to sample whatever it was that Eichi found suitable for their shared afternoon, but he was sure that Keito had asked for something different, as well as sweets to go along with it.

“The master of the shop highly recommends this blend for his most treasured guests,” the waiter said, pouring each of them a peculiarly bright red tea, one second smelling of roses and the next of saccharine frosting. “He sincerely appreciates your patience. He will see you soon with exactly what your hearts have requested.”

A strange way to tell them their orders were still being prepared, though Wataru could probably incorporate that kind of meaningless ambiguity into his future appearances. Eichi thanked the waiter and sent him on his way, but not before reminding him, smile in place, of how a shop _should_ treat its most _treasured guests_.

“Shall we soothe our throats before we continue?” Eichi asked, not letting the unmet expectation of being waited on hand and foot in his favorite bougie tea shop ruin the occasion.

“I would rather we not continue,” Keito replied, but lifted his teacup to his mouth regardless.

“What a desolate place the world would be if we simply denied the winds of creativity pulling us in all different directions!” Wataru took the chance to get his last word in before taking a sip himself.

Maybe it was simply his commoner’s palate, but it certainly tasted like tea. 

That was his final definitive thought before the fancy napkins in front of him started to blur, an odd vertigo tilting the tea shop as he frantically looked to Keito and Eichi, both slumping over in their seats, then to the back of the shop in the direction where the waiter had vanished earlier.

The “staff only” door was wide open, and the world jolted into vivid clarity for a single second in which Wataru made out a tophat-wearing figure. The outfit struck him first—the long teal coat and white ruffles—before he took in the blond hair falling across his face, and his eyes, blue like the sky and bright with mischief. The figure looked back at him, grinning and raising one gloved hand in a languid wave.

Wataru’s cup crashed to the floor, his head hitting the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a fucking sip
> 
> This chapter was written by Bao!


	2. Chapter 2

When Eichi woke, he found himself somewhere unfamiliar.

To begin with, he was no longer in the cafe he often frequented, with Keito and Wataru in tow. Instead, his blurry vision opened to darkness on all sides except for right in front of him. The odd hollow he was cradled in forced his knees to his chest as if he were some tiny child; his back ached at the strain, demanding he fix the issue as swiftly as possible.

Luckily, the hole leading outside was big enough for him to squeeze out of. After a painful maneuvering of his limbs to the exit, Eichi shakily crawled from the hole, rubbing at his throbbing legs and spine.

The hole, as it turned out, resembled a rabbit’s burrow at the foot of a tree almost as tall as the sky. An impossible feat, but getting to his feet and judging the distance simply pained his neck as the tree trunk rose up and up and _up_ , like the giant Goliath, reaching further until he could look no more. 

The rest of the forest surrounding him shared the same appearance. Trees too long to exist, their spindly branches shaking in the slight chilly wind, as if shivering in amusement at his befuddlement. Despite their unnatural height, sunlight shone through their crinkly leaves, which allowed him to inspect the area. Wherever he was, it wasn’t anywhere close to Yumenosaki Private Academy, that was obvious.

Eichi doubted he was anywhere at all, though.

This was nothing but a dream, after all.

To begin, how had he gotten to this area in the first place? His last memory was of the steaming cup of tea he’d sipped when in the cafe. To the owner’s merit, the flavor of the recommended blend had been seductive. A cloying fruity taste with the faintest hint of apples—a taste he would have gotten more of if he hadn’t fallen unconscious.

The possibility of being drugged seemed improbable when he thought more about it. Who would drug an idol simply to toss them into a hole in a forest? Ransom should have been on the table at least, especially for someone like him. But with no one suspicious around and no signs of wounds upon his body, Eichi concluded that nothing fishy had occurred.

And lastly… the trees. A bit too unnatural, yes?

Therefore, a dream.

“And a rather life-like dream this is,” he muttered, sliding his fingertips against each other to test if it would awaken him. No dice. Perhaps lucid dreaming—or whatever this was called—worked differently than regular dreams created in REM sleep.

Passing a final glance to the rabbit home he’d opened his eyes in, Eichi turned on his heel and strode eastward on a whim.

A rather well-considered whim, too, as the trees began to thin from the thick cluster from before. It didn’t take long for the sunlight to shine brighter and for the towering, oppressive treetops to decrease in height. Before long the path resembled any regular old wide hiking path through the woods.

Soon he exited from the forest. Musical giggling wafted past his ears like the sound of jingling wind chimes. Peering shortly behind him at where the laughter originated, Eichi picked up his pace.

This dream was… unlike others, that was clear. As interesting as it was—enough so that his fingers itched to spot the oddities (a bundle of flowers moving when there was no wind, the split image of something at the corner of his eyes, his body’s inability to grow tired no matter the distance walked)—Eichi concentrated on finding a way to wake up. If he’d truly fallen unconscious at the cafe, Keito would be in quite a tizzy… and while normally that reaction amused him, he too would like to end this lucid dream he’d found himself in as soon as possible. It was better than sitting around and waiting for his consciousness to blank out on its own.

As that thought passed his mind, Eichi spotted puffs of smoke not far from him. Not gray, no; purple, pinks, blues, a whole rainbow of color flying upward. He picked up speed as his thoughts whirled. Odd-colored or not, smoke meant fire, and fire meant—

“ _People_.”

The existence of other people in this dream of his could prove helpful. Interacting with forms not his own might shove his wandering, dreaming brain back to reality. No time like the present to test out his theory, in any case.

He came upon the area where the smoke originated. It was a house; a cabin, in better words, like the slick, well-taken-care-of homes located in forest retreats. The polished wood exterior glistened smoothly in the golden sunlight.

He knocked on the door to the cabin after climbing its short stairs. Knocked again after he’d waited for ten slow seconds, expecting a response. As the third and fourth attempt elected no answer, Eichi, scowling, went to grasp the door handle.

The door wasn’t locked.

Giving it a light push, it swung wide, opening up the cabin to his inquisitive gaze. Eichi poked his head in once he didn’t hear the footfalls of an inhabitant coming to observe the noise. Inside the cabin, the lighting was dim aside from a single candle softly wavering atop a night table settled up near a plush-looking orange-colored chair. The sound of another being inside the cozy abode was nonexistent. But the smoke…

“Pardon the intrusion.” Fully inside the cabin, Eichi explored the home as best he could. The living room gave nothing worth noticing outside of a fuzzy orange carpet under his feet. Moving into the corridors and other rooms made it clear that he was the only one inside. The kitchen was cloaked in a layer of darkness by the thick violet curtains closing off the windows; shoving them aside, he examined the room and determined the kitchen empty outside of a dozen or so cups of… carrot-flavored cup ramen?

Such a common snack… Even so, fixing ramen probably didn’t cause an abundance of smoke, so Eichi returned them to their spot and left them alone. No other foods meant no need to light the stove, and thus no fire to create smoke. Eichi swore that he’d seen the wafts of color as clear as day as they faded into the sky. They _had_ come from within this cabin, but how did the kitchen completely contradict him?

Eichi released a somewhat irritable sigh. For a dream, it was quite an annoying one…

…Ah?

At the spot where he’d pulled the curtains open, under the windowsill that was once covered, there was a little door several feet high, about enough for someone his size to crawl through.

The knob turned and it clicked open. Musty air hit him upfront.

Not a doggy door, despite the size. And what child would find amusement in a dirty, old, dark niche in the kitchen? The space through it was completely black; even squinting didn’t help to reveal what was inside.

Eichi doubted this had anything to do with his smoke dilemma, but it was strange nonetheless. Where did the room go? What was its point?

Getting to his feet, he left and returned within the minute, the lit candle from the sitting room in his hand. Shoving the candle through the tiny door, Eichi awkwardly ducked his upper body in as well. His nose twisted up at the smell, forcing him to shiver in disgust.

Even with the candle lighting the hole, it barely illuminated more than a few inches forward. However, looking around, the walls weren’t moist dirt but instead smooth wood. Eichi shifted his way further inside, his shoulders knocking against the sides if he wasn’t careful. The tunnel was much larger than he’d imagined. How far would it go…?

His free hand moved against the solid wood panel flooring as he crawled forward. His candle helped light the way as much as it could.

There wasn’t much in the way of content inside the passage, he concluded swiftly. Just darkness and wooden walls—nothing _normal_ , but nothing strange, either.

Just as he began to ponder turning back around to restart his search for someone who could wake him from his dream, the flame from his candle shook. Eichi shifted forward on his knees, thinking of sliding his unoccupied hand up to cover the flame before it blew out— 

—Only for his hand to slide forward onto open air, and for his body to tip down before he could catch himself.

_So this hole does lead somewhere_ , he managed to calmly note with intrigue before gravity forced him to obey its rules.

“A- _aaah_?!”

A short yelp escaped Eichi as shock overtook him. The candle fumbled out of his hand, leaving him in absolute darkness as he toppled down into a void of nothingness. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, loud and heavy, rushing eager blood through his veins with each throb. 

After all this, he still had yet to wake up?!

The air flowing up whipped his hair back as he fell headfirst. Eichi clenched his teeth and prepared for a rough landing, shielding his head with his arms as he anticipated the ground to swiftly come up. If anything, at least the impact would wake him up.

So Eichi fell.

Not long after the whoosh of air met his ears, he unexpectedly dropped onto a soft, plush mass with an ‘Oof!’

The mass was a pillow, as it turned out. Several of them to be exact, he realized as he examined the area: a large bundle of different-colored soft throw pillows covered the floor he’d tumbled onto. The tunnel had led him downward and transformed into something else entirely. No longer so tiny that he struggled to not hit the walls with his shoulders, now the narrow tunnel was a medium-sized room covered in lit candles with knick-knacks settled into deep nooks. There was a single exit: a long hallway opposite the mound of pillows he laid on.

Getting to his feet, his shoes clicked on the floor as he strode down the single escape. As much as the entire situation reminded him of an undeniable trap—although, in a dream like this, why would there be a trap?—he couldn’t help the curiosity brimming through his body. Especially not when the doors appeared.

The doors were regular, but not. Eichi noticed the first one on his right side and tried it out. Shaking the knob did nothing. A few feet away was the second door to his left side; same thing. The third door was high on the ceiling, impossible for him to get to even if he tried. The further he went, listening to the tap-tap of his shoes, the more doors appeared until every space on the wall was of a unique door; short, tall, round, rectangular, red, black, stained-glass…

The sight of a dead end at the end of the corridor was what broke his attention.

“There’s no way out?” Eichi questioned aloud. He rushed forward, trying the handles of what doors he could reach in the semicircular room. “There can’t be two dead ends. How will anyone get out when both sides are closed?”

Despite his concerns, the doors he attempted to open simply shook in place and stayed shut tight.

How irritating.

“A trick?” he mused, scrutinizing the doors around him, along the walls and the ceiling. “But there’s no rule, no explanation. Just how are you meant to exit…?”

“Instead of asking thin air,” someone yawned, startling his heart into skipping a beat, “you could ask the being in front of you…?”

“E-eh?”

Whirling around, he found no one in sight. He was sure someone had said something… A rather lethargic voice, sounding moments from slipping right into a deep sleep.

Frowning, Eichi rotated until the door-embedded walls protected his back. “Who is there? It’s impolite to play a trick on a stranger. Won’t you show yourself?”

“It’s also impolite to wake someone from their rest, you know~?” That voice again. Where…? “Can’t you lower your voice? And while you’re at it, at least look someone in the eyes while you’re speaking with them. Who knew Wonderland had such rude guests~?” An elongated yawn escaped them at the end.

“Of course. It would help if I knew where your eyes _were_.”

“How about using your own eyes?” they grumbled. “Down here, down here. Behind you. Don’t waste my time, I have a nap soon to prepare for.”

As Eichi followed the instructions, he encountered a medieval-style door a few inches shorter than the one that led to the initial dark tunnel. He’d glanced over it in his hurry to open up the more standard height doors. Its wood was a charming purple, almost like Wataru’s eyes. Its knob was burnished brass. As though carved with a sharp object, a roughly etched sketch sat in the center of the door. Instant recognition flashed through him, and Eichi blinked.

“Ritsu-kun?”

“Hmm? Who gave you permission to call me that?” The Ritsu sketch hummed. He reclined against the door knob, lazily lidded eyes passing over him. “You should speak respectfully to your betters. It’s _Door Guard_ to you. And—ah? Your face...” Suddenly, his head lifted up. Ritsu’s umber eyes squinted at him. “Mad Hatter? … So it’s you. If you wanted to play with someone, couldn’t you do it with the people at your tea party? Coming all the way here makes you a nuisance...”

Now he was the one confused. “Mad Hatter? Tea party? Where have I heard those terms before…?” Ah. Duh. "I see, now. This dream is meant to mimic Alice in Wonderland then, isn’t it, Ritsu-kun?”

“Alice who? What? What’d I say about calling me that?” Ritsu responded, but Eichi was already off on his own tangent.

“Is it Alice in Wonderland, or Wonderland Alice VS. Looking Glass Alice?” Eichi pondered. “Am I Alice in this situation? But I’ve not encountered a White Rabbit to lead me astray, so that can’t be right. But you do look adorable, what with the striped ears and tail. The Cheshire Cat, perhaps? It does fit you quite well. May I touch you?”

His hand was already darting forward to thumb over the rough lines in the wood before he finished asking. Ritsu gave a displeased grunt and hopped off to the side of the door, where he completely vanished.

“Ah? Ritsu-kun?” Don’t tell him that he’d been left alone...

“Up here, up here.” Following the voice, Eichi located the reclining sketch on a new door a couple feet higher than the other. Too far for him to reach, sadly. “You’re touchy today, Mad Hatter… Don’t you have your own partners to mess with? Maakun is the only one allowed to have fun with me, you know?”

So Mao was around, as well. Who else would appear?

“I see. Apologies, then, but it seems as though I am in need of your help, Ritsu-kun. I’m looking for someone to wake me up.”

Ritsu’s ears twitched. “Are you not awake right now? Am I awake? If only I could be asleep right now… Mad Hatter, I’m growing drowsy. You should get to the point soon.”

“No sleeping, Ritsu-kun. I do need your assistance!” As Ritsu’s head consistently began to lull forward, Eichi placed his concerns to the back of his mind and hurried to explain. “As interesting as this dream is, I would prefer to wake up soon. I’ve left Keito and Wataru back in reality; those two will get up to trouble if I’m not there. While they’re quite cute when in a fuss, I would prefer being there before anything unfortunate happens. Wataru does take things too far sometimes. I arrived here after following a line of smoke from a chimney, and no one was around when I entered the home. Before I knew it, I was falling down a hole that led here. Is that enough for you to understand?”

Silence.

Had Ritsu truly fallen asleep? His tail flickered between his legs and he leaned on the silver knob of the door he transferred to, his eyes shut.

Perhaps if he raised his voice? “If you cannot help me, someone else might. I can’t return to where I fell from so all that is left is forward. You are the only one here, so I take it you’re the Doorknob from the animated version… Or at least a version of it, mixed with the Cheshire Cat. What do you say, Ritsu-kun? Will you help me?”

“Eh, you talk too much, Stranger.” Groaning again, Ritsu changed position on the door until his upper body seemed to hang from the knob.

“Stranger? Am I no longer Mad Hatter?”

“Mad Hatter’s conversation is much more energetic and confounding than whatever it is you’re going on about,” he sighed. “So you can’t be him, Stranger, even if you share his face. Regardless, that hole you fell down was Maakun’s tunnel. He lives up there. To think he hasn’t locked his door… I’ll punish Maakun for his idiocy when he gets back here.”

“That’s nice. But about helping me…?”

Another groan. “Whatever. Fine. You want to get past? You’ll have to go through the bottom door, the one I was first on.”

Eichi stared at the door again. It was… not something he could fit in. Width-wise, perhaps, but only a child could fit through it without getting stuck. Struck with a thought, Eichi scooted forward and tried the handle. Locked. Of course.

“It’s locked, and I’m too big to crawl through this,” he reported.

“You’re becoming a hassle, Stranger,” Ritsu said. Eichi frowned. “If you’re that desperate, you’re in luck. I have the key. It’s on the table behind you.”

“What ta--”

Looking over his shoulder revealed a glass table sitting in the center of the room. That hadn’t been there before, but it was a dream, so he supposed he couldn’t be too surprised.

The key Ritsu mentioned was made of gold. If he was telling the truth, it would fit in the keyhole underneath the doorknob.

Laying the key back on the table, he asked: “And about my height problem?”

“Learn how to do things for yourself…” Despite the complaint, Ritsu gave a wave of his tiny hand. “You were likely seeing the smoke from when these were baking… Regardless, the cookies are right in front of you. Eat one, I made them myself. They should help you. Probably.”

When he rechecked the table, there were, in fact, two gingerbread cookies resting on a plate on top of the table. The cookies were faceless and lacked decoration outside of a cute pink tag tied around their necks with the text ‘Eat me!’ written in the middle. Admittedly, Eichi found it surprising that the Ritsu in his Wonderland dream made his sweets more appealing than the one in real life.

“Do I eat one or both?” As he asked, he raised his hands to grasp the two person-shaped cookies around their centers.

The moment Eichi touched them, his vision blurred like he was undergoing vertigo. Eyes squeezed tight to temper the sick sensation of dizziness spreading through his head, Eichi scowled, recalling the same feeling from when he’d taken a sip of the tea before passing out. 

“Ah, right. I remember now.” Ritsu’s lazy voice sounded over his light-headedness. “The Queen wanted those cookies made for the party with his partners, so I did something extra to spice them up. What do you think, Stranger? They recreate your greatest desires in life. The cookies I touched only showed Maakun~.”

Greatest… desires?

Gradually, the swoop of confusion faded and the black stars blinding his sight died out. Blinking until he could see, Eichi shot a perplexed look up at the cat-like Ritsu, unconsciously tightening his grip on the two cookies.

Something in his left hand… squirmed. “Ah! Eichi, not so hard. We’re fragile!”

“Don’t you know how to handle cookies, Eichi? As irresponsible as ever. Hey, stop squeezing! Be careful!” lectured something in his right, its voice strangely squeaky as if having inhaled a load of nitrogen from a balloon.

At that point, Eichi was already recoiling and tossing the two _talking cookies_ in his hands back onto the table. What on _earth_? What had Ritsu done to the cookies to make them speak? And for that matter—their voices—why were their voices—

When his gaze darted to the table and realized what--who--the cookies had transformed into, Eichi didn’t know what to think anymore.

“K-Keito?” he called, incredulous. “... Wataru?”

An outrageous thing to say, calling the cookies the names of his two closest companions, yet... These fakes, these cookies. They shared the exact same likeness as his left and right hands, even replicating their summer uniforms. The cutesy ‘Eat Me!’ tags were still tied around their necks like adorable ribbons. The cookies were tiny enough to rest in his palm. They _had_ been before he’d tossed them away.

The mini Keito had the real Keito’s glare down pat. “Do your ears not work? I said to be careful. Instead, you almost broke us! How would you be able to get past the door without us around?”

“Now now, Right Hand! The Emperor was simply shocked. It wasn’t on purpose, right, Eichi?” The cookie resembling Wataru also shared the high-pitched voice, and it gasped. “Unless… Eichi, you wouldn’t! Are you tossing us away? I shall loyally follow you to the ends of the earth, so if you must drop some dead weight, perhaps you should consider Keito-kun instead~?”

“Why would he drop me?! You’re the unnecessary one!”

“Oho? Mister Glasses, are you so sure? Between the two of us, would Eichi prefer this foolish magician, or a lecturing strategist with a big mouth?”

“Obviously someone with a strategy... And who are you saying has a big mouth, you bastard?!”

While the two cookies-turned-people quibbled, Eichi observed them in action, taking note of their small figures. He inched forward as the squabbling started to turn mini Keito’s face red. Back in front of the table, he couldn’t resist holding them around their waists again. Their fighting cut off as he cooed.

“How _cute_. Ritsu-kun, they’re just like the originals! As talkative and rambunctious as ever!” Excitement coursing through him, he brought the cookies closer to get a better look. Unlike regular flesh, their skin felt hard and tacky like the gingerbread they were made of. He ran his fingers along their arms, finding the texture curious. “What a fascinating dream I’m having to give you two such adorable roles. Fufu, I could just eat you up.”

“Please do, Eichi!” Mini Wataru encouraged.

“Don’t be so fast to decide,” Mini Keito disagreed. “Your choice should come after some thinking. Don’t go with your heart, use your head.”

“Ah, don’t listen to that one. Do whatever you want.” Ritsu contradicted the cookie. When Eichi spotted him again, he was back on the initial purple door, rubbing his eyes and laying upside down. “Your head is your heart and your heart is your head. Emotions and logic are basically one and the same, right? Make your choice. Soon, too… I have a nap that’s calling my name.”

The tip of his thumb poked Keito’s tiny cheek. The cookie scowled, frowning up at him as though offended. Apologetic, he rubbed his thumb over the skin, only making him even angrier.

“Stop that!” Keito snapped. The squirming amped up in his grasp.

“But you’re so cute, like a little doll. Come here.” Lifting his right hand higher, Eichi gave the Keito cookie a peck on the cheek. Surprisingly, he tasted exactly like the cookie he was formed of and smelled incredibly sweet. When he brought Keito back down, he couldn’t tell if his face was red from rage or embarrassment.

The cookie sputtered. “S-S-Shameless! Shameful! Incorrigible!”

How precious. Would the real Keito react like that? One day, he would have to capture an image of a flustered, bright crimson Keito and bring it up in conversation for weeks and weeks. Preferably the hypothetical situation would follow the same course as his current situation: having the chance to become so close that, maybe, Eichi could kiss him, and the chance of rejection was little to none.

At this point, the one thing holding him back from the attempt in real life was cowardice. To think that such a pathetic trait would rear its head after all he’d done. How inconvenient.

“Eichi~” Wataru’s sing-song voice broke him from his depressing thoughts. Wataru’s short arms waved toward his face, his expression charmingly petulant. “Kissing one but not the other? How unfair! I am ever so faithful to my liege. May I have one, too? Something short and sweet to leave us wanting!”

The sound of Keito gagging accompanied Eichi’s enthusiastic compliance with the request. He brought Wataru up to his lips in preparation for a kiss on the cheek like the last. As usual, he was caught off guard by the clown and his wondrous tricks. Instead of kissing his hard cheek as anticipated, Wataru faced his head forward and leaned up, smooching him on the edge of his mouth.

“Mwah!” He added for emphasis. Wataru’s flirtatious wink worsened the flush coming to Eichi’s face.

Keito shook in his hand like a volcano ready to blow. His head swimming from the surprise, he couldn’t understand most of what their new fight was about now. There were fewer things sillier than losing one’s head by experiencing an almost-kiss in a dream. It meant nothing—especially when the person who had almost kissed him wasn’t a person at all. Yet the cookie shared Wataru’s voice, Wataru’s appearance… the one difference was how he was the size of a toy.

This dream was simply… a lot.

The cookies were arguing over something or other again. Eichi gave them time to fuss, asking the carving on the door: “You said to eat one. That they would help me, yes? Explain to me what you mean.”

“I also said ‘probably,’” the carving pointed out, ears pulling back on his head. “The Queen wanted loads of them, and there are too many side-effects to count. Some might not have one at all. Who knows if those two do? Eat one and find out; if you’re lucky, you can make it past the door.”

Eat one… of the moving, squirming, talking cookies?

His expression must have seemed reluctant—Wataru, fresh out of his spat with Keito, exclaimed: “We’re delicious, Eichi! One of the best desserts you’ll ever have. As for side-effects, do not worry. They may include growing as tall as the sky—”

“—or shrinking until you are the size of an ant—” added Keito, grudgingly.

“—or neither! A roulette of lovely, exciting surprises. An _Amazing_ menagerie, don’t you agree?”

“It certainly seems experimental,” Eichi agreed. A peculiar sense of concern blossomed in his chest the more he thought about what, exactly, he was tasked to do. “So, I must eat one of you. Do you two know what your side-effect is?”

A resounding ‘no’. Of course. 

“... Which would you prefer, Keito? Wataru?”

Unsurprisingly, they each voted for themselves.

“You’ve already had a taste, Eichi. Why not have the whole thing? I’m much tastier than Keito-kun is.”

A _hmph_ from Keito. “You’ll choke on that bastard’s long hair, Eichi. Take better care of yourself and choose me. It’ll be easier for you.”

“As though the Emperor won’t strain himself while eating those glasses of yours…”

“They’re too small to harm him!”

While he found their conversation charming, he couldn’t focus on them right now. “Enough, you two. I’m thinking.”

Thinking about which of his two romantic interests, as it were, he wanted to devour. Definitely not a phrase he ever pondered. His subconscious was truly unabashed when concerning fantasies.

“It’s as simple as choosing one or the other, Stranger. Hurry and choose.” At last, Ritsu’s patience seemed close to the limit. “They aren’t real and won’t feel pain. Eat one already.”

Easy enough for a Ritsu look-alike to say; _he_ would consume Mao with little difficulty. A sentiment Eichi usually found no fault with, yet…

“They won’t feel a thing?” he questioned, cautious.

“They’re cookies. Have you ever seen a cookie feel pain?”

Eichi hadn’t seen a cookie act like a human for all of his life, so… “Fine. I have my choice.”

For a moment, he took in Keito’s and Wataru’s expectant gazes. Then, heaving a sigh, he carefully placed Keito back onto the table. “Stay there,” he advised. “Who knows what might happen next. I’ll need you to counteract the side-effect.”

Aghast, Keito cried, “You’re choosing _him_?”

“The better choice, indeed!” Wataru cheered.

“No fighting, you two. I’ve spent much too long here already.” Did time move on as he stayed stuck in this dream? Already he was unconscious longer than necessary. If this woke him up faster, then so be it. “Wataru…” He gave the cheerful cookie a considerate look. “I’ll do my best to not bite. Even if it will be difficult to swallow you down.”

Ritsu snorted, which he dutifully ignored.

As enthusiastic as always, Wataru’s grin brightened. “Do with me as you will, Eichi. I’ll accept it all.”

A kind sentiment, except Eichi was moments from eating him and leaving his remains to dissolve in his stomach.

In some sort of last-ditch effort, Keito toed the edge of the glass table, almost coming close to toppling off. “Eichi, are you sure about this? He can’t be trusted. For all that we know, he’ll give you the opposite of what you want to escape.”

“I’m sure. Besides.” His smile is a tad on the wry side. “Wataru has never hurt me, even you know that. I’ll trust this dream version of him, if just on that principle.”

A beat of silence before Keito, hesitant, nodded his acquiescence.

“Perfect. Don’t wriggle about, Wataru. I don’t want to think I’m eating an insect.”

“You have my word!”

_What a strange dream_ , Eichi mused as he lifted the mini Wataru high over his head by the back of his uniform shirt. A sliver of his abdomen peeked out when Eichi glanced up at him, the figure staying still to make it a straightforward endeavor. Despite the inevitable act, Wataru grinned all the while. _Ritsu-kun’s snacks must have a desire to die_ , he concluded.

Eventually, Eichi’s eyes slid shut and his mouth opened wide.

Ingesting something that was alive up until it landed in his mouth was an… experience. To his credit, Eichi forced his teeth to not bite down as promised. The Wataru cookie landed inside his mouth and, with a rather painful scrape along his esophagus, tumbled right into his stomach. A hint of light frosting stayed in his mouth.

Unable to hold it, he coughed in his fist once finished. Perhaps he should have requested some tea to help the slide.

“Ugh,” Eichi grunted. Nothing had happened yet. Had he ended up picking the snack lacking a side-effect? “Ritsu-kun, when will I know if it’s working? Did I choose the wrong one?”

A sluggish wave of Ritsu’s hand. “Wait for it.”

For the first time, displeasure flashed through his mind. Wait for _what_?

One second he was normal, the next the skin of his entire body was jittery, as though he’d drunk a whole pot of sugary coffee. Eichi swiped at his arms, feeling thousands of invisible ants crawling up his skin. When his vision blurred again, he realized that the cookie at least had caused some sort of reaction. His eyes fell shut again and he squeezed his fists tight, wishing for the effect to come to a swift end.

“... Mmm.” Before he knew it, the unsettling hallucination of bugs on his person slowed until they vanished. Eichi assessed the situation.

The pattern under his feet showed him that he was still in the dead end. When he checked around, everything was different—the glass table stood as tall as the trees had when he’d initially awoken, and the door containing the Ritsu carving was as tall as a mansion’s front entrance.

“Oh!” Eyes bright, Eichi clapped his hands together excitedly. On a simple guess and he’d been correct! “It worked, Ritsu-kun!”

At his current height, Ritsu’s appearance above him was like a miniature sphinx. “Congrats, Stranger. Now get the key and be on your—” a _very_ long yawn— “merry… way…”

Key? Ah, the key! He’d left it on top of the table!

Before his worry developed into panic, there came a call above him: “Eichi, watch your head.”

Something crashed against the ground beside him. The key, as it turned out. And soon, to worsen the shock, mini Keito—but was he really mini when they were around the same size?—crashed to the floor as well. A crunch had him wincing as Keito touched down roughly, the sound like snapping a cookie in two; a description right on the money.

“First you’ve ever looked so anxious. Don’t worry so much, I can’t feel pain.” Keito dusted his clothes off as he stood, the tag with ‘Eat me!’ around his neck much bigger at the new height. A piece of his foot was left behind, a sight that tightened Eichi’s throat as he watched him come closer. As though the lack of it didn’t matter, Keito bent and grabbed hold of the key. He strained, lifting up a portion of it. “Hurry up. Don’t just watch me,” he groused, voice still stuck at a higher pitch, “pick up the rest. We’ll put it in the keyhole together.”

After a good shake of his head to recollect himself, Eichi listened to the command and hefted up the rest of the key. Not once did his lungs burn at the weight, a testament to his invincibility in this uncanny fantasy. They dragged the gold key to the door and, under the watchful gaze of its guardian, hoisted the item above their heads and into the hole. It clicked as the door’s mechanisms responded to the key turning. As they stepped back to clear space, the door swung ajar.

“Congrats,” Ritsu said.

“That took longer than expected,” sighed Eichi. His hands dropped from the key to cradle the side of the door, pulling it wider to check outside. The door exited out to a forested path. While not as tall as the forest he’d woken up in, the atmosphere drifting about sent shivers up his arms. Whatever was out there was nothing like he’d experienced beforehand.

Suddenly, something as hard as a brick enveloped his free hand. A hint of red had risen to Keito’s cheeks when Eichi faced him, eyebrows raised at the random act of hand-holding.

“Before you go…” A long pause. Keito narrowed his eyes, staring at their combined hands. “I need to ask you. Why did you choose him?”

“I didn’t know you were the jealous sort.”

“Answer the question!” he snapped.

Were all the cookies here so intent on being eaten that they grew angered when left alone? If he knew Keito would have felt betrayed, he’d have swapped Wataru for him, darn the consequences.

Shrugging his shoulders carelessly, Eichi answered him. “There is no reason. I trusted Wataru to not lead me astray, and he didn’t.”

“So you trust him more than you do me.”

“You’re looking at this the wrong way. Fine, how about this? You’re a fake Keito, but tell me, do you recall our big fight? The first time we let our words and fists fly toward one another without backing down. Anzu-chan’s ‘Quarrel Festival’?”

A nod of remembrance. Eichi ventured on. “After eavesdropping on our conversation, you reprimanded me, saying ‘I don’t think that you consumed my dreams.’ You told me to no longer be anxious about the past. And to some effect, I’ve placed most of it behind me. There’s no need to waste time considering the past when the future is much more important. Yet when I pondered between you and Wataru, I found myself hesitating. As silly as it sounds, the thought of consuming you _within_ one of my dreams, for my own needs, felt double-crossing. Although you’re nothing but a hallucination… Well. You resemble the real Keito enough that my feelings cannot tell the difference. In any case, was that enough of an answer for you?”

“... Idiot.” Keito squeezed his hand tighter. “Letting something like that affect you. Are you a child?”

“Meanie. After I laid my heart out to you and everything. Maybe I _should_ have eaten you.”

“Too late. Besides that… It’s dangerous out there. I’ll walk with you,” he offered.

“Is that so?”

“Obviously.” Using the hand not holding his, Keito’s eyes darted to the floor as he fiddled with his glasses. “You’ll end up lost if someone isn’t around. I have to keep you from offing yourself accidentally.”

How kind.

“Aren’t you my savior. We shall be on our way, then. Ritsu-kun?”

When Eichi checked, the carving on the door had vanished. He examined the others—the entire room—but found nothing with Ritsu’s cat-like form scratched into its wood. The table, too, was gone without a trace.

A firm tug on his hand. “Let’s go.”

And so Eichi went, entering into the forest hand in hand with a copy of his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Tai (Collectible) and the illustration was a collab between Penki and Gold!


	3. Chapter 3

_Calm down, Hasumi Keito._ Hasumi Keito told himself. _Deep breaths. Take off your glasses. Recite the sutra. Visualize yourself on stage. Count the prime numbers. Maybe not that last one._

There were three primary factors contributing to his disarray. First and foremost, Eichi was nowhere in sight, and Keito was all but certain that the not-so-delightful-after-all cup of tea was part of an elaborate kidnapping plot. Second, he could swear that the shrub of crimson roses to his left was, well, screeching (in a voice resembling, and perhaps even more irritating than Hibiki’s); this, coupled with the ominous WELCOME HOME message on his frozen smartphone screen, led him to believe that the tea contained a hallucinogen. Would Eichi’s body be able to handle it? Finally, distracted by the screeching shrub, he had stubbed his toe against a rock, which, being quite painful, had the incorrigible effect of assuring him that this was not just some dream, thus reinforcing his hypothesis that he had indeed gotten caught up in a kidnapping. 

Fortunately enough, the screeching died down by the time Keito had counted to 107, and as the dull pain in his pinky toe also began to fade, he got a better look at his surroundings. 

He was in a garden: rose-shrubs of various colors were arranged to form a rainbow spectrum that encircled a fountain decorated with pigeon statues. The building in the distance resembled a European-style castle; this, and the grass, which was so green it seemed artificial, made Keito wonder if he had been swept away into an amusement park. The rainbow arched across the sky was a bit much, in his opinion. Actually, everything was a bit too… obnoxious. Like Hibiki. 

Keito clicked his tongue. He didn’t have the time to spare the fool his thoughts. But naturally Hibiki was not one to allow him peace of mind, for the very next moment the red rose-shrub began screeching again—and this time, he was calm enough to recognize that this _was_ the one and only clown’s voice. The worst part about this situation was neither the distastefully bright aesthetic nor the earplug-worthy wails; it was the fact that these familiar grievances gave him a sense of relief, enough to make him approach the cacophonic cluster of roses. 

“Hibiki,” Keito sighed, “Are you in there? Stop messing around; I’ll give you ten seconds to get out and provide an explanation of what’s going on before I set this whole garden on fire.”

“Your Majesty!” the rose-shrub exclaimed, “How do you like my latest garden arrangement?”

“What? Listen, Hibiki. I’m not Eichi, and I have neither the time nor the patience to—.” 

The shrub continued, ignoring him. “The Hatter was delighted when I showed him the roses; he asked if he could steal a couple of blue ones, so please excuse a few bald spots throughout the garden—a benevolent Queen like you wouldn’t mind, right?” 

“A _what_?” Keito reached towards the shrub. Was this a recording? He pondered the possibility, recalling the time he turned a life-size-Hibiki doll inside out in a futile attempt to make it shut up. 

“In any case,” the rose moved on, “I’ll keep my message short, since I’d much rather savor your reactions in person: the Hatter wanted you to know that there would be extra guests at today’s party. Rest assured; _I_ don’t know who they are either! There’s no need to prepare anything extra, unless you so desire, but please, _do_ bring your reactions. Your death sentences bring me such joy.”

“Nothing about that was assuring in the least,” Keito snapped. He then paused, staring at the shrub, hoping it would respond in some way. But it remained silent, and when a tiny inchworm crawled out onto a petal, he decided it was better to use this time to sort out his thoughts. 

A Queen, a Hatter, a rose garden, a tea party. Keito wasn’t one to miss the obvious. Putting aside the question of whether or not it was real, this place was meant to be Wonderland. Furthermore, Hibiki was most likely involved. To clarify: the surge of relief Keito felt upon recognizing his voice was due to his belief (“trust” was too strong a word) that the man would not mess around when Eichi might be in danger’s way (hopefully)—it certainly wasn’t because of any sort of positive emotion he might have about him (for, of course, there were none). 

So perhaps it wasn’t a kidnapping, Keito thought, pacing back and forth between the red and pink rose-shrubs. He wasn’t going to completely rule out the possibility of danger, but the very thought that Eichi might be safe was enough to clear his mind. 

Step by step, thought by thought, he began to lift his eyes off the ground. Wonderland was one of the most popular literary references in existence, after all; he himself had fantasized about a “happy ending” that stretched beyond Alice’s dying summers of youth, challenging the messages about adulthood that Carroll seemed to have embedded in _Through the Looking Glass_. If this _were_ a dream, as Alice’s story was, then he’d have little to worry about. Otherwise, it would have to be an elaborate prank set up by Eichi and Hibiki together, in which case a six-hour lecture about pranks going ‘too far’ would suffice.

By the time he spun around for the sixteenth time, Keito’s spirits and eyes were lifted enough to catch sight of a figure on the other side of the garden’s floral color-wheel. He immediately approached him with wide strides, for the familiarity of the voice brought him joy: it sounded exhausted, yet somehow incapable of concealing a hint of ebullience, as if taking on the most cumbersome task on the planet was an honor that could only be achieved with massive complaining. 

“Did Ricchan mess with my clock again? Or is it on time? I doubt the Queen will get mad if I deliver these cookies an hour or six late, but I’d still feel bad...”

In other words, it sounded like Isara Mao. And there he was, rabbit ears and all, wearing a lace-trimmed suit that looked like it was designed for a White Day’s event, carrying a picnic basket and wrestling with an antique pocket watch—rabbit ears?

“Isara,” Keito blurted, “Isara, are you the White Rabbit?”

“Wh—” rabbit-eared Isara exclaimed, catching the watch that slipped out of his hands three inches from the ground, “Woah! Your Majesty? I thought you’d left for the party already?”

“I believe you have the wrong person, unfortunately,” Keito replied. His inner bookworm was displeased with the potential metatextual implications behind this situation, but he needed answers, “—and I probably have, too. But tell me about this Majesty. Tell me about this tea party. Tell me about you. Who are you?”

“What—your Maj—I mean, wait, are you _sure_ you’re not the Queen? You sound exactly like him, with all those questions in one breath,” Isa-rabbit replied, his ears wobbling and flopping back and forth at every word—no doubt, they were real, and Keito was doing everything in his power to avoid patting his junior’s look-alike on the head. 

“I’m certain,” Keito replied, “I might have called myself a ruler, but never once a Queen.”

“...Well, I guess it’s just another day in Wonderland. To answer your question: yes, I’m the White Rabbit,” the Rabbit said, ticking off the questions one by one with his hand, “I work for the Queen—the ‘Majesty,’ who looks exactly like you. The tea party is the Mad Hatter’s party, held every Sunday, which means every other day now since the Queen rewrote the calendar. Did I get everything?” 

“I believe you did,” Keito said, impressed by how Isara’s excellence was unfazed by rabbit ears.

“Great,” the Rabbit continued, “Now let me ask you a question: are you lost?”

“Well—yes, I suppose most people would say I was lost, considering how I have no clue how I got here. Why do you ask?” 

“It’s actually part of my job description to give directions, you see,” the Rabbit smiled. “We get a lot of strangers around here, so the Queen leaves them all to me. I bet he wants to guide them around Wonderland himself, but he’s a busy ruler, so…” he trailed off, “Anyway! Let me know who you want to meet and I’ll tell you how to get to them.” 

“Who I want to meet?” Keito raised his eyebrows, “You don’t mean where I want to go?”

“They’re the same, aren’t they?” the Rabbit replied, “Actually, isn’t the _who_ more reliable than the _where_ ? Ricchan moves the whole house whenever he has nothing better to do, so I just return to _him_ whenever I want to go home. It’s not that hard.”

“I see,” Keito said, mulling over the idea. He didn’t dislike the concept; quite the contrary, he found it rather charming, but he knew Isara was not one to utter such poetic nonsense, even if it were scripted for him—so this situation _must_ be a dream, in which case, the best thing to do was to follow the logic of the land. 

“Then I want to meet Eichi.”

“Eichi? Ah, I’m pretty sure I know who this is about, but you’ll have to give me a title,” the Rabbit said, “I’m not permitted to call him by his name, you see.”

“I can’t give you a title, unless ‘Emperor’ counts as one,” Keito replied, “but does this work?” He pulled out a pen and notepad from his pocket (for his smartphone was still woefully dead) and sketched a quick portrait of Eichi. 

“Yes, yes,” the Rabbit nodded, visibly impressed.“This works. All right, I guess we’re headed to the tea party together, then. You can follow my lead for most of the way!”

“Hang on, what do you mean by _most_ —” Keito objected, but the Rabbit was too busy dragging him by his wrist to hear him. With six steps—maybe _leaps_ was a better word—and four blinks of the eye, they were in the woods.

“We just need to head down this path,” the Rabbit said, pointing to a dirt road lined with glowing mushrooms. Eerily twisted trees towered over their heads, their leaves creating an umbra spotted with specks of light every five feet. “Watch your step, the grass is unkempt.”

“How incorrigible…” Keito muttered as he tripped over a giant dandelion root. Upon noticing the Rabbit’s curious gaze, he asked, “What is it?”

“No… Mind if we chat as we walk?” The Rabbit asked, quickly adding, “I know you’re not the Queen, but it still feels weird being all casual with you.”

“That’s fine,” Keito paused, “Maybe the Queen wants you to be more casual with him, too; I’ve heard that the throne can chill the heart with loneliness. Unless your Queen is a tyrant—does he execute innocent civilians at his fancy?”

“Ah~... uh… did you get that from the rumors?” the Rabbit asked, his eyes wandering.

“What rumors?”

The Rabbit blinked. “Guess not. Well—the Queen’s a good guy, I swear, but he does make empty execution threats every once in a while. It doesn’t help that he’s bogged down by all these dark rumors about having come to power through a political marriage with the King of Hearts, only to assassinate him… the rumors aren’t true, though,” he whispered, lowering his voice upon seeing Keito’s expression, “you see, I know because Ricchan whines about his brother’s attempts to reach him by door-mail every other day. So the former King is doing fine. He just needs a _really_ long nap.”

To the Rabbit’s surprise, Keito’s brows furrowed even more, and a faint _incorrigible_ escaped his lips. He didn’t like this; he didn’t like this one bit. If this whole situation were a trick of his own subconscious, he needed to book an appointment with a therapist as soon as he got out of here. 

“Are you okay? We can rest a little if you need to, you know?” the Rabbit said. 

“No, I’m fine,” Keito muttered as he tried to swat away the intractable image that had been planted in his mind. He reminded himself that he should be grateful that the Rabbit was, on the whole, _so_ much like Isara—he was a far better guide than the actual White Rabbit in Alice. Much less hurried, too. “And you like your job?”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” the Rabbit replied, hopping two steps ahead, “I get called a weirdo for taking on all this work, but it’s nice to feel useful, you know?”

“It certainly is.” Keito brushed aside a branch. “But don’t get carried away: the euphoria brought on by being needed can quickly turn to dead weight if you pile on more responsibility than you can carry. I hope you know how to cry for help.”

“Haha,” the Rabbit laughed, “Thanks. I hope you do, too—and here we are.”

The forest had been growing continually darker as the leaves thickened throughout their journey, and by now the spots of light that had helped guide them along the dirt road were so scattered that Keito only managed to recognize the two round silhouettes approaching them when they were three feet away. The shorter of the two stepped forward, and with his hands on his hips, he sung, in the voice of an angel—

“If you’d like to greet the Hatter,

Then you’d be best stop all the chatter!

We’re here to test your soul and spirit;

Tea awaits only those who clear it.” 

“...Himemiya, huh,” Keito pushed up his glasses. At this point, he was enjoying the game. “What’s your role? Don’t tell me—you’re with Fushimi, and the two of you are in matching outfits. Those silly caps, and the letters embroidered on your collars; I see. You must be Tweedle… hime, alongside Tweedle… bow. My god, who in the world came up with _these_ names?” 

“Silence, you impertinent pair of glasses!” Tweedlehime cried, “Who said you could interrupt me in the middle of my song!?” 

“ _Young Master_ ,” Tweedlebow replied, “I thought you were struggling to get any further just five seconds ago? We should have stuck with our original plan, The Walrus and the Carpenter.”

“Shut up! I don’t like that one because they don’t leave any oysters for _me_! Plus I’d rather talk about the Hatter! He’s perfect!”

“Do excuse his manners, my dear guests,” Tweedlebow sighed, dodging Tweedlehime’s windmill-arm attack. “Ah! Rabbit-sama, it’s _you_ ; the Queen is quite eager to see you. I hope you have the cookies?” 

“I sure do,” the Rabbit said, waving his basket. “He’s not mad, right?”

“Well, certainly not about you _._ ”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” The Rabbit laughed dryly before spinning around and throwing Keito a quick wink. “Good luck! Just follow your heart and you’ll be fine.”

“What does that—” before Keito could finish his sentence, the Rabbit had disappeared, grin and all. “Isn’t that the Cheshire Cat’s job?” he complained. Not that he didn’t trust Himemiya or Fushimi, but the forest felt distinctly… unwelcoming, and the Rabbit’s words were, for obvious reasons, the exact opposite of reassuring.

“Fear not,” Tweedlebow assured him, reading his mind (thus making Keito more nervous), “It is but a simple task: a quest of choices. The Hatter informed us that you weren’t a fan of throwing things away, you see, which is why—.”

“You’re going to pick one!” Tweedlehime chimed, “Just one of the two!”

“We have two doors here,” Tweedlebow continued, “one to your right, and one to your left.”

A reddish mahogany door appeared to his left; to his right, a plain, familiar shoji screen. Keito scoffed—wasn’t this whole set-up a bit _too_ on the nose? The Hatter orchestrating this whole circus could really only be one person. 

“The left will take you to the party,

Who knows what _they_ conspire?”

“The right will take you swiftly home,

To the peace you so desire.”

“That must have been your give-away question,” Keito said, “Left, of course. The tea party is where Eichi is right now—to borrow the Rabbit’s words, in this Wonderland, it’s my home.”

The mahogany door swung open; beyond it lay a white nothingness. 

“Well done,” Tweedlebow bowed, “You’ve chosen wisely.”

“How about this next question?” Tweedlehime giggled, holding up two arrows. “It’s not as kindly.”

The sing-along was briefly interrupted by an intermission featuring Tweedlebow confiscating the arrows from a whining Tweedlehime, lifting them beyond his reach. Keito wasn’t sure if this was meant to be part of their comedy routine, but they did make a surprisingly cute pair of quarrelsome Tweedles, despite their difference in height. 

“Now that _Young Master_ has calmed down--”

“I’m _always_ calm,” Tweedlehime muttered with a frown. “Onto the next song!”

“This choice simply weighs war against sacrifice:

Will you give up the crown? Or will it be the dream?”

“The sharper stone shoots through the heart of fool’s paradise;

The dull arrow prompts the fall of your regime.”

“I would love to destroy a fool’s paradise any day, thank you very much,” Keito thought aloud. “But judging from the lyrics, in this context that would mean choosing the end of a dream. A crown, on the other hand, is sometimes meant to be surrendered—so I’ll take the dull arrow.”

“Excellent,” Tweedlebow said, handing him the arrow, “quite excellent, my dear guest; your choices are clear-cut and logical. I suppose it’s about time for me to ask the _actual_ question.”

“Honestly, playing roundabout is a bad habit of yours,” Tweedlehime sighed. “Hey, glasses. Bow’s being a bully, so I’m just letting you know: neither of those props are actually necessary to get to the tea party. It’s actually the other way 'round. If you chose the _wrong_ answer, you would’ve gotten booted out of Wonderland.”

“ _Young Master_ ,” Tweedlebow protested, “You’re being too kind.”

“Oh hush,” Tweedlehime replied, “We’re not Tweedles because we’re twins; we’re Tweedles because _I’m_ the master and you’re going to stand next to me forever, right? So I’ll do what I want. I love the Hatter, but I do think the real question is a little distasteful.”

“You’re saying that the first two questions weren’t?” Keito laughed, “Well, go on then. And thank you, Tweedlehime, for your advice. I’ll take it to heart.”

Tweedlehime’s eyes sparkled with proud delight for a brief moment before he caught Tweedlebow’s gaze and cleared his throat.

“There are no tricks and no rhymes this time,” Tweedlehime said, spinning around in place like a ballerina on a toy box. 

“It’s a simple yes/no: feel free to answer with a flip of a dime,” Tweedlebow continued, coolly ignoring Tweedlehime’s brief hiss— _I said no rhymes_!

“Your beloved awaits you—he is safe; quite satiated, too. 

He’s on track to make it to the tea party on time.”

“But your beloved’s dearest fool is in need of some help, you see.

A clown who cannot smile is—well, I suppose he’d call himself a wet mouse without a tale.”

“The Hatter’s question is simple: will you offer your limbs and body to save _his_ dream?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Penki and the illustration was a collab between Bao and Penki!


	4. Chapter 4

As for Wataru Hibiki, he woke up lying in a patch of warm grass. The blades of it towered up around him, shielding him from the hot sunlight. 

_How odd_ , he thought to himself. _I have been in a fair few gardens, but never one quite so large_. He sat up and looked around. _No—the garden is surely normal, and it is I who is strangely small_ , he decided. This reversal of sizes was quite fascinating, but even more fascinating to him was the sound of clamoring voices faintly reaching his ears through the grass-stems. 

He crept towards the source, taking care not to make a single sound on his way—it certainly wouldn’t do to announce his entrance before he had figured out the script everyone else was reading from. Soon he was lurking in the shadows just beside a sunlit clearing where the earth was bare and well-trodden. At the other edge of the clearing, a mess of wet footprints led from the edge of a puddle (lake-sized in Wataru’s eyes) to the centre of the clearing, where a group of people huddled together. 

They were an odd bunch. Aside from being as tiny as Wataru, and dripping wet, they were all dressed in various fancy costumes. Surprisingly, most of their voices were familiar to him—a low voice and a high one piping up in support must be Hokuto and Tomoya, and the rest were students from the acting department. They seemed to be arguing about the best way to get dry.

At last Hokuto managed to quieten them down, calling out, “Everyone, we need to take this seriously! If we aren’t dry in time to put on our performance, the Mad Hatter will eat us!” They all fell into silence at that. “...And if he enjoys it _too_ much, he may eat us too, so we must be as dry as possible. I’ll describe the most boring part of the play—that should do the trick. Please sit down, everyone.”

The Mad Hatter…? Suddenly Wataru remembered the mysterious figure he’d seen just before waking up here. He had resembled Eichi a startling amount, but how could he be him while Wataru had sat right at his side? 

He needed to approach them and find out more. 

Hokuto cleared his throat self-importantly. “Now. Macduff the Thane of Fife, together with Malcolm, elder son of Duncan, the former king, and whose trust he had gained by calling him unfit for his purpose, had just arrived to seek aid for their cause—”

Wataru ran up to the group as happy and enthusiastic as he always was, announcing his arrival with a loud voice in hopes of surprising the unique crowd and livening things up a little.

"I certainly hope you're not planning to start without me, oh, my precious little fellows!" He shrieked while leaping into their midst, pretending to ignore the strangeness of the situation itself. It was normal to adapt to whatever the stage threw at you, wasn't it?

However, quite annoyingly, they weren't surprised at the sudden appearance. Most of them just sighed, weary of him and his long hair already, and the rest kept on staring at him—most particularly, at his clothes. Wataru had never been the kind to worry or feel anxious because of that; on the contrary, he felt satisfied by having everyone's eyes on him.

"Buchou," called Hokuto at last, who had with him a sheathed sword, and looked almost like a prince. Some things never changed. "What horrible timing. I was talking, could you please stay quiet for 30 seconds?"

Everyone who knew Hibiki Wataru could guess his answer. This led up to a fairly long (and also childish) quarrel, which Tomoya had to finish; obviously, he gave Hokuto the right to speak, and proudly he continued his monologue.

"Sit down, you two, and listen to me! I'll soon make you dry!" 

Once he had sat down with the rest of the Theater Club, Wataru kept his eyes anxiously fixed on Hokuto, pouting immaturely at being forced to keep silent.

"Ugh..." whispered Wataru, making some of the members laugh, which caught Hokuto's attention.

"I beg your pardon," said he, frowning, but very politely. "Did you speak?"

"Not I~!" giggled the older, swaying.

"—I proceed," frowned Hokuto, after a tired sigh. "Macduff and Malcolm, seeking aid for their cause, had just arrived at the castle of Edward, the King of England, but—"

His speech went on and on until it reached a point where no-one was paying attention and everyone seemed rather uncomfortable. When he noticed that, he stopped and changed strategies.

"Ahem!" Everyone looked at Hokuto, wondering if he had finished already or if they had to suffer even more. "How are you getting on now?"

"Wet..." replied Tomoya, almost hesitant, as if going against his favorite senpai were a sinful act.

"In that case, the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race."

"Oho? A Caucus-race? What an intriguing name!" Suddenly interested, Wataru stood up and reached towards his underclassmen. "Could I have a little explanation? Or, perhaps... Shall we improvise, to our hearts’ content?!"

"That would be a pain, don't," interrupted Tomoya, slightly exasperated.

"I agree. However, I presume you wouldn't listen to us either way, so, in this case, the best way to explain it is to do it." 

Hokuto crossed his arms and, with one glance to the rest of the people around him, everyone took their places... Or that was what Wataru guessed, because there was no particular order nor marked race-course. Not that this was a problem; if at all, he found it truly fascinating, and it made him more thrilled to join in as everybody started running.

For maybe half an hour they all ran in a vague circle, stopping to catch their breath and starting back up again whenever they liked. Wataru was secretly mystified by the whole arrangement, believing it was a terrible way of getting anything done, though it was true they were all drying out nicely. 

Finally Hokuto stopped and called out, “The race is over, gather round!” and they all re-formed their circle around him again, some panting for breath and some chattering amongst themselves.

“I shall announce the winner now,” Hokuto announced, but then he paused and stared into the distance, clearly deep in thought about who it should be. Everybody waited patiently for him. 

Just as he was about to ask _why_ exactly they needed to have a winner in the first place, Hokuto spoke again. _“Everyone_ is the winner,” he said, clearly pleased with his own decision-making skills. “And so we must all be rewarded for winning.”

Then he pointed at Wataru. “You, give everyone a prize.” 

Wataru gaped exaggeratedly. “Me? Why would I have any prizes ready? You’re so unreasonable, Hokuto-kun!”

“Improvise then, you’re good at that.”

Wataru sighed. Annoyingly Hokuto had been right to pick him, for he did have a jacket-full of magic props, gadgets, birdseed, toys and sweets which he could pass out to everyone. None of them seemed to mind what kind of prize they got, except Tomoya, who looked rather nervous after being presented with a tiny glass slipper.

Despite himself, Wataru thought back to what Keito had said earlier about treating his juniors better (in fact he’d said it many times before—it was probably in his top five Hibiki Issues). He couldn’t stomach the idea of breaking character like that; he suspected he’d be terrible at niceness. And if they were serious about acting, they should learn to continue with their act no matter how they were insulted or mocked; that was a prerequisite for any clown. Something like this—handing out prizes or praise simply for participation—seemed pointless.

As he finished, Tomoya sidled up to Hokuto (who was now wearing a party hat that had been his own prize). “Hokuto-senpai, don’t you think he should get a prize too?” he asked tentatively as Wataru pretended to not be listening nearby. “It’s only fair, right? I know I shouldn't, but I feel kinda bad watching him give away all his stuff.” 

It was true, he’d given it all away—he had brought far less props, or there were far more people than he’d expected. He felt rather naked, walking around without even a single coin to do tricks with, and his doves were nowhere to be found either.

“Good idea, Tomoya,” Hokuto said. “He won the race along with us, after all.” He turned to Wataru, who feigned a little surprise at being spoken to. “We need one more prize.” 

Wataru had kept one last thing in reserve, for it was his signature, after all—a single red rose. Reluctantly he clicked his fingers and Hokuto looked down to find it in his hand. 

Hokuto knelt. “Congratulations, Buchou. We humbly beg of you to accept this elegant rose,” he intoned in a princely voice, and he lifted the rose up for its original owner to take. 

But Wataru couldn’t bring himself to smile genuinely at the strange bit of play-pretend. In contrast to what other people believed, he _was_ able to feel sadness and worry, especially at that moment in which he found himself coming up empty. He grasped the flower at the same time that a lot of questions started to go around his head, not letting him stay as easy-going or enthusiastic as usual. However, what was most surprising was that he was not worried about his precious mask falling in front of the whole club, because there was a bigger fear concerning him.

His sight went back to the flower, anxiously. How he wished he had taken better care of it! If only he had known… But to be honest, it was natural that he’d never thought of a similar situation occurring. He, the Buffoon, magician, Oddball; no other than the Wataru Hibiki, running out of tricks and magic. It was utterly unbelievable… As well as unforgivable. In the end, his whole being needed them, if he still childishly wanted to be a star delivering smiles to everyone. 

He knew that his wish wouldn’t ever come true; he was perfectly conscious of that, but he wanted to cover his ears and keep on living a fantasy that would crumble around him some day. _Sooner or later, the curtain will fall_ , he repeated to himself on occasion, but he never thought the end would come like this, left alone with a single boring and clichéd rose for him to surprise those two cherished people with.

He wanted to be a star, to shine and give hope to everyone looking at him, even if he wasn’t there any longer, but in the end he was just a tiny, average rose like millions of others. He felt appalled, powerless. What he had was just a simple flower; ordinary, insignificant, flawed. Would it be enough to surprise Eichi and make him smile? Would it be enough to joke and make Keito scream furiously?

...Would _he_ be enough?

His heart ached.

“Buchou, why are you making that face?” asked Tomoya after what seemed an eternity. Wataru opened his mouth exaggeratedly to answer something silly, but the younger was faster. “Ah! Is it because Hokuto-senpai gave you that rose? Don’t imagine weird things, pervert!”

“Tomoya, we talked about this.” Hokuto sighed, and Wataru felt kind of relieved that he was the one taking care of the situation as he still felt a little bit muddled. “Buchou couldn’t possibly think of such things now, or the Queen would chop his head off.” That answer relaxed Tomoya, but had the opposite effect on Wataru.

“I didn’t know that there was a Queen who wanted my head that much~” He was trying to joke around, but when he said that everyone suddenly turned their heads towards him, noticeably scared. “...Sorry?”

“Buchou, the Queen is a temperamental person and probably won’t have mercy just because you’re dating. We all know that it’s empty inside, but you shouldn’t risk your head like that.” Hokuto talked about that matter as if the fact that someone could get their heads severed from their body was the most common thing ever, even though Wataru himself was growing nervous at the sole mention of it.

“Don’t worry, the Mad Hatter always helps him when they quarrel, in much the same way he intervenes when they are the ones arguing,” added Tomoya, nodding at his own words.

“Mad Hatter? Queen? When did Yumenosaki become a fairytale?” Wataru muttered nervously. Luckily Hokuto could hear him and make everything clear.

“Yume… what? Buchou, this isn’t funny. We’re talking about your lovers, Tenshouin and Hasumi.” Wataru felt something cracking inside of him at the word ‘lovers’ followed by those names. 

“Yeah! What’s wrong with you today? Usually you don’t shut up about them and now you pretend you don’t remember them?”

Hokuto put a hand on Tomoya’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what he pretends. After all, we’re going to perform for the two of them at their tea party now, and there’s no way he can keep pretending then, considering the way they act.” The what?

“Oh—you’re right! Let’s just ignore this pervert for now, Hokuto-senpai, and go off into our own little world…!”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Tomoya. We need to bring everyone else along with us too, or the play will be a failure. In fact, we should be on our way now that we’re done drying off. Everyone, it’s time to get going,” Hokuto called out to the group, and suddenly it seemed like everyone was moving around Wataru, even faster than the thoughts flying frenziedly in his skull. It was as if he was the single one who’d forgotten his lines, while all around him the story proceeded. 

Still clutching the flimsy rose in one hand, there was nothing he could do but follow along with the crowd as they hurried on toward the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writing for this chapter was a collaboration between Gold and Luu and the illustration was also a collab, between Gold and Bao!


	5. Chapter 5

The forest _had_ been confounding, and Eichi probably _would_ have gotten lost—not that he was going to admit it even to this fake-confectionary-Keito, who, true to his word, had guided him through the twisting trees with only an additional chip in his cookie shoulder to show for it. Ahead, the trees grew sparser, and as they approached the hazy light in the distance, the vague murmur of activity—festive or chaotic or both in equal measures—became more distinct.

Eventually, the forest gave way to a bright clearing where a long table had been set, piled high with all the makings of a decadent afternoon tea–maybe several decadent afternoon teas at once. Eichi’s eyes trailed up mismatched porcelain to the mountain of finger sandwiches and petit-fours to the head of the table, where—

“Keito? Wataru? And is that… me?” The three seated at the head of the table were completely preoccupied with a procession of tiny people attempting to climb over teacups and move spoons to make space for whatever it was that tiny people did in the dream Eichi had simply decided to label ‘Wonderland’. The other Wataru, dressed in loose blue robes, seemed to be directing them in circles while the other Eichi clapped his gloved hands, looking on with delight. The other Keito, adorned in hearts and dripping with gold, had his arms folded over his chest, on the verge of giving everyone—large and small—an earful about exactly what he thought about this chaos.

Eichi looked to the other _other_ Keito at his side, searching for an explanation.

“We’ve arrived at the Mad Hatter’s tea party. At some point, at some time, in some way all of us in Wonderland end up here for his amusement. Or perhaps it’s the same point, in the same way, every time.” Cookie Keito tilted his head, seeming to seriously ponder the point himself, before taking Eichi’s hand once again. “In any case, we have made it here walking side by side. There are some challenges we face on our own, but let me at least—”

“ _Eichi?!”_ At this point _another_ Keito burst into the clearing, brushing the stray leaves from his uniform shirt (but missing one in his hair). Upon noticing the cookie Keito standing by Eichi, the newest Keito’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Who is that? What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?”

The newest Keito made his way over to Eichi, ignoring his cookie version and patting Eichi’s body down as if to confirm his existence in this odd dream. In proximity, Eichi caught the lingering scent of incense smoke that Keito always carried with him on his uniform. Whether this was a dream or reality, the scent of the temple remained unaltered by whatever escapades Keito had certainly gone through in his own adventures through Wonderland. Relief settled in Eichi’s stomach, warm and familiar.

“It is you, isn’t it, Keito? I can’t get rid of you even in my dreams,” Eichi smiled as Keito continued to fuss.

“This imposter may look like me, but he clearly has no grasp on how to put on a show! How shameful, that someone wearing a very tiny version of my own face could disgrace this table-stage with such sad and uninspired drudgery.” On the other side of the clearing, the pandemonium at the table seemed to have reached a peak when the other Wataru’s distinctive voice rose above the rest, bringing both the hosts and their inches-tall guests to a standstill.

Eichi and Keito looked at each other (Eichi spared another glance for cookie Keito, who seemed to have deflated a bit at the original Keito’s entrance), coming to the same conclusion without a word before taking off to the table.

***

On the table, surrounded by macarons and sugar cubes, Wataru was convinced this was a nightmare. He may not have been given any sort of script or direction, but he knew Macbeth! He was a professional! He had captivated far larger audiences with far fewer materials to work off of before. There was no way the emptying of his pockets could have emptied out his capacity for entertainment, too—but then again, perhaps the scrutiny of his Caterpillar self revealed faults that no regular audience member could have picked up, the same way he might watch a recording of himself to dissect his performance down to the smallest gesture of a finger.

“Leave that Masked Freak alone!” Despite half-hiding behind Hokuto, Tomoya was yelling up at the Caterpillar. He seemed to be taking the two-Wataru situation in stride, but Wataru had a feeling this Tomoya also dealt with stranger things than his magic tricks on a regular basis. “You’re just a huger version of him, which makes you everything you’re saying about him but a thousand times worse.”

“It’s true,” Hokuto chimed in. “You two are more or less equal in annoyance, so though we may be unskilled and unobservant amateurs in terms of acting, the harshness of your criticism seems unwarranted. Besides, since we had to put up with him, I think it’s simply unfair for us to be deprived of the opportunity to get rid of him ourselves.”

How touching. Wataru would have to scold them later for breaking character at such a slight provocation, but he could have shed a tear.

“It’s better to simply deal with this kind of nonsense immediately,” said the Queen, regarding Wataru with an intensity saved for a particularly repugnant insect. Addressing the Caterpillar, he continued, “I fully hold you responsible for allowing the Hatter to invite this riffraff to the tea party, but if you’re dissatisfied, I can simply have him beheaded. Though I suppose Isara was called off by his insistent Door Guard immediately after dropping off these cookies, so we’d have to find someone else to clean up the aftermath.”

“Keito, don’t act so distant,” the Hatter pouted, leaning closer to the Caterpillar as if seeking comfort from the sting of the Queen’s less-than-enthusiastic attitude toward their party. “You know Wataru and I simply wanted to plan a fun Sunday for just the three of us to be together, and I think the players have been exceedingly decent. Not dry enough for a beheading at all—but maybe decent enough to be a light snack before the main course?”

“Ah, my dear Hatter, we can always count on you for the most brilliant ideas!” The Caterpillar cooed, tipping the Hatter’s face closer with one of his many hands. The Hatter had a look on his face that Wataru recognized well—as if the Caterpillar hung all the stars in the sky, specifically for him.

Wataru shivered. Most importantly, he would very much like to not be beheaded _or_ eaten as a human hors d’oeuvre. On top of that, it was incredibly unsettling to observe what was more or less his and Eichi’s usual conduct, but from the outside—even more so when he remembered what his Wonderland juniors had mentioned about the particular relationship between these three. His Wonderland juniors, who had become the unfortunate targets of the Hatter, who was idly flicking the other theater troupe members off the table in every which direction.

“Absolutely not,” the Queen huffed a sigh, and Wataru perked up. Could this heart-covered Keito’s stale sense of humor be his saving grace after all? “You’ll upset your stomach if you eat strange things you found in the woods, and then Hibiki and I will have to deal with you complaining all night. Beheading is a much better solution for everyone involved.”

Well, the hope was nice while it lasted. “If we’re talking about everyone involved, do I get a say?” Stalling for time, Wataru racked his mind and dug his hands into his pockets. Of course, the only thing he came up with was the wilting rose that Hokuto had left him with earlier. It would have to do.

With a deep bow and a flourish, Wataru offered the crumpled flower in the Queen’s direction. “My Queen, I hope you will accept this humble gift and allow me to beg for your forgiveness if I have failed to adequately entertain you and your companions today. I would never want Your Majesty to debase himself with an activity as distasteful as the execution of a simple fool.” None of these dramatics would have worked on the Keito _he_ knew, but he might as well give himself up to the Hatter’s digestive tract if he couldn’t at least put on a show while trying desperately to get out of this dream alive. And the Keito he knew was more of a bleeding heart than he would ever willingly let on—he could only hope the same was true of his Wonderland counterpart.

“Wataru!”

“Don’t lay a finger on that tiny Hibiki!”

Or perhaps he wouldn’t have to find out either way. Keito—presumably the _real_ Keito, judging by his summer uniform—had slammed his hands on the opposite end of the long table, causing the equivalent of an earthquake for Wataru, who had to pull an inspired sort of hop-twirl maneuver in order to stay on his feet among rattling plates and threatening ripples of hot tea.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to intrude on your little party,” said Eichi, stepping up next to Keito. He was wearing the smile he’d practiced regularly in the mirror throughout his second year so he could be ready the moment anyone at all had the audacity to try to speak to him. “See, you seem to have gotten your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you.”

At the head of the table, an equally chilling grin spread on the Hatter’s face. “The guests of honor have all finally gathered. Welcome to my tea party. You all have weathered Wonderland with less trouble than I was hoping for, but maybe that just means you were meant to end up here after all.”

“I would really prefer not to think about what you’re implying with that statement,” Keito said, hands on his hips. “Now, if you’ll toss us Hibiki, we can get on our way out of this ridiculous dream and back to a reality that makes more sense.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.” The Hatter dropped three sugar cubes into his cup of tea, stirring idly while the Queen simultaneously tried to fish them out, muttering about his sugar intake.

The Caterpillar chimed in. “Who would allow such an uninspired ending to any tale? In order to exit Wonderland and turn the last page on this story, you must pass through the Hatter’s party by fulfilling a certain condition.” He blew out a puff of suspiciously-colored smoke that snaked its way across the table to curl around Keito and Eichi.

“Fine,” said Eichi, waving a single hand disinterestedly at the smoke cloud. “This was all amusing enough at first, but now that you’re messing with what’s mine, I’m no longer in the mood to play your games. Name your terms.”

“Your amusements can be so distasteful, Hatter,” said the Queen, continuing his quest to deprive the Hatter of his sugar cubes without even having to look. “Regardless. Two of you may leave Wonderland. The condition is that it is your decision: who returns home, and who remains.”

Wataru, having found a comfortable linen napkin, had taken a seat now that his execution had been stalled by the arrival of his schoolmates. The trio’s condition was much less troublesome than he was expecting.

“Eichi. Mister Right Hand. You two should go on.” Wataru smiled up at them, with a foolish wistful thought that if he were truly being left behind for good, he could have at least had warmer faces to remember them by than Eichi’s frown and Keito’s frustrated scowl. “I have no tricks left, after all; I’d be useless to you. Even that Caterpillar could see right through to how empty I am now.”

“Absolutely not.” Eichi’s expression was another that Wataru had become very familiar with—the stubborn set of his mouth that refused to bow to any rule that put him at a disadvantage. “I can’t accept that at all.”

“You have your head all twisted up in unnecessary concerns, my dear Emperor. This Wonderland is but a dream. Leave me behind, and I’m sure we’ll all wake up safe and sound.” Or at least he hoped.

“Wataru. Sometimes you really should learn when it’s better to stay quiet. So listen to me: when I woke up here, alone, surrounded by darkness, and before I acknowledged this as a dream, I was afraid I had lost you—both of you.

“Though it’s like that every time I wake up alone. Before my vision comes back to me entirely, before I remember that I’ve been sent to yet another hospital—every time I wake up alone, I think that maybe this time it’s because death has finally come to meet me. I think, I wish that I had been able to see Wataru and Keito one last time, so I could at least say a proper goodbye and a proper thank you for everything.

“I can’t give up either of you. I can’t return home without you. Even in a dream.”

Wataru smiled again, using every ounce of his training to communicate reassurance through his expression. “You never listen to me, do you, Eichi? But if you won’t consider what I have to say, at least think about your right hand. I’m sure he would rather be on his way home with you than wasting time with this back-and-forth.”

“You’re right, Hibiki. I am sick of this discussion, and I would like to be on my way home as soon as possible.” Keito knelt next to the edge of the table, making as direct eye contact as he could. The full force of a Vice President’s glare was oddly thrilling with this difference in scale. “So let me say this just once, and I won’t hear any of your excuses after that: I could have gotten myself kicked out of Wonderland all on my own, but I _chose_ you, dammit. Eichi wants you by his side, so whether your pockets are full of magic or lint, you’ll never be useless to us. And I will personally kill you if you ever make me repeat that.”

Wataru was saved from having to process and respond to yet another display of human emotion by the slow and resonant clap of a very amused Hatter.

“Now _that_ was some real melodrama,” he said.

The Caterpillar, chin resting in one of his hands, laughed. “What an amazing expression! I thought this one was going to burst, having to admit that! I might truly die the day our Queen is forced to spit out something half as honest.”

The Queen, not amused: “Though your death is a welcoming prospect, that will never happen.”

“But for that quality of pure entertainment, I suppose we might be moved enough to give you three a second chance,” said the Hatter, spreading his hands in a facsimile of benevolence. “How about this instead? If you can figure out how to get this one to a more suitable size, we will let you all go.”

Arguably a worse deal than the first one, in Wataru’s opinion, but something seemed to have clicked immediately for Eichi upon hearing it.

“I was a lot bigger when I first woke up in Wonderland, but I was able to eat something that shrunk me,” Eichi said, with a curiously guilty glance at Wataru. “I brought something like that with me to this tea party; or rather, something like that brought _me_ here.”

As if on cue, yet another Keito approached the table. As he got closer, Wataru noticed a bizarre crumbling to his shoulder and one of his feet, and the scent of sugar and cinnamon.

“Ah? What’s this? Has the right hand figured out how to make doubles of himself as well?” Wataru asked.

“He’s a cookie,” Eichi explained.

“I’m a cookie,” Other Keito echoed.

“You’ve done more than enough for me in this journey, my friend; I hate to ask for one last favor. But perhaps we can make this a bit more manageable for poor little Wataru.” Eichi regarded the cookie Keito fondly as he began to shrink, stopping at a mere few inches. Kneeling down, Eichi scooped up the cookie and placed him on the table, where he made his way over to Wataru’s napkin perch.

“If I had known how strangely literal the Tweedles were being about this specific thing, maybe I would have just chosen to save myself. This is beyond odd; no person should be made to witness something like this,” the real Keito cut in. Wataru couldn’t blame him—as much as he adored every variation of bewilderment he could draw out of Keito.

“Don’t worry,” cookie Keito reassured Wataru, pressing his cinnamon-scented hands on his shoulders. “He and I may be completely separate existences, but I still know what’s in his heart. Please, go ahead.” With that, he continued to shrink, becoming a flat, person-shaped cookie that could fit in even Wataru’s miniscule palm.

Wataru swallowed him down in one go. He took a hop onto the triple-decker tray of tea cakes and a flying leap onto the Caterpillar’s pipe—in time to avoid crushing the table settings as he rapidly grew—managing to tuck and flip exactly once in the air before reaching full size and landing directly on top of Eichi and Keito both, tumbling all three of them onto the floor of the clearing.

“I won’t apologize, but you can’t get rid of me that easily,” said Eichi, with grass in his hair.

“Let’s go home, then,” Wataru replied.

Keito’s arm tightened around his back, from where he’d tried and failed to catch him properly. His glasses had been knocked askew by the fall. He looked to Eichi, then Wataru, but even his sigh sounded more like a laugh when he couldn’t hide his smile.

“If home is a _who_ and not a _where_ , then we’re already there.”

***

Keito awoke with a start, the sickly sweet scent of Wonderland and that terrible tea party thick in the air around him.

Breathing heavily, the hard crash against the ground as Hibiki slammed into them was still clear in his mind—the grass under their bodies, the warmth of Hibiki and Eichi around him, that unbelievable scene of himself turning small and getting… eaten…

That memory in particular. That memory would become the one he told his therapist when he grew older, the memory that would receive the blame for every last one of his issues in the future. He doubted it would ever fade from his mind no matter how hard he worked to forget it ever happened.

…Had it happened?

Last he knew before turning up in Wonderland, he, Eichi, and Hibiki had been seated in a tea shop—one of Eichi’s favorites. As he took in his surroundings, he found himself in his bedroom of all places, his bedsheets coiled around his legs. Early sunlight streamed through the window overhead. He genuinely felt well-rested.

Keito had absolutely no memory of getting home. 

Throwing his bedsheets clear off, he stumbled over to his study desk where his phone rested on its charger. His fingers missed the buttons to his code as he struggled, squinting without his glasses. Finally, annoyed with his inability to see, he yanked the charger out and brought the phone screen up to his face.

Something caught his attention as he entered his passcode. A stack of white paper sitting next to his bag on the desk, neatly and tidily stapled together like the script for a play.

Sliding his glasses on, he turned his focus to the pages he’d never seen before in his life.

_Tea for Three_. There wasn’t just one “Alice,” but three, all differing in personality and behaviors. As he flipped through the script, his eyes widened at each detail, from the familiar Tweedlehime and Tweedlebow to the moments with the Door Guard and the Caucus-race that his dream self had not been privy to. 

This… this was…

The script fell from his sweaty grip when his phone pinged with a message alert. Identifying the sender in an instant, Keito read through the text.

**_Eichi_ **

_Keito? We have to talk._

A disbelieving laugh was all he could offer at the realization overcoming him.

They were going to have a very _long_ talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by Bao and Tai and the illustration was a collab between Bao and Gold!  
> Thank you for reading!! <3


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